LondonTown!

I’m running through the Copenhagen airport. I finally get through security with 10 minutes before my gate closes. I’m breathing as if I just ran a marathon. A 20something guy, or can better be described as a god runs up behind me telling me I’ve dropped my boarding pass. “Callie is it? I’m Richard and I’d call us both lucky to have made this flight.” British. He’s British. His level of attractiveness reaches a new level if that is possible. 

“Oh thank you so much and I think you’re right.” 

I am not British. It comes out British. WHO AM I? I panic. I can’t keep up a British accent. Why did I do that? He sees the concern on my face. “ You oight? Cheer up, we made it.” He smiles. I’m a puddle on the floor. When I speak again it comes out British. I’M NOT BRITISH. Shit. 

Richard and I continue to talk while we stand in line. Brit to Brit ya know. Then I pull out my passport to give to the gate person. My American passport. We both make awkward eye contact. We don’t speak anymore. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? 

This is how my trip to London started off. Running through the airport and picking up a fake British accent that turned slightly Australian and was probably headed in the direction of Chinese. However, I did make it. All by myself. But I did realize how passive I am when it comes to traveling. Sam usually just tells me where to go and what to do and I just go with the crowd. 

I make it through the somewhat frightening UK boarder patrol and happen to run into a fellow DIS person Sam, Sarah, and I like to call the mini-size Carter. We do the awkward small talk of people who really don’t know each other but have drank beer in the same venue together. I did finally learn his name though. Rob. 

I pick up my bag and start to just well, follow the crowd. Joe! Months of planning actually worked out and we both made it to London. We both admitted we highly doubted it would happen until just a few weeks ago. Planning doesn’t seem to be either of our fortes. But we did it. And we survived. Although, the way I feel right now sitting on this plane listening to the person beside me snore does not feel quite like surviving. 

After a small struggle with finding the “Hotel Hoppa” bus we needed we make it to the hotel and of course my first concern is food. Wanna know what else I found out this weekend? Joe needs minimal amounts of food to survive where as I need large amounts. My first concern is always food. But I managed to somewhat adapt by the end of it. So we end up at a pub close by so that, obviously, we can kill two birds with one stone. 

Stella being our beverage of choice, we indulged in many and caught up on life at Randolph and life across the pond. It proved to be just foreshadowing of our other London adventures, but a pretty great night 1. 

Day 2: 

Because Joe so graciously rushed through finals week at Randolph to meet me in London by Thursday, he had a paper to tackle/bullshit. So while he was a good student I laid around and ate combos. Then we went out to Kings Cross Station and I saw platform 9 3/4!!! The Harry Potter fanatic inside of me was extremely excited but I tried to tone it down. I have an image to maintain ya know. Then we headed for food & yes you guessed it, Stella. We ended up at a bar/club with half off drinks. Needless to say, I ended up giving the lady who sits in the bathroom giving people soap 5 pounds because I didn’t know how to not give her anything at all. She hugged me and told me  I was the nicest girl she knew. Tracy and I bonded. However, every other bathroom trip I made after that I didn’t make eye contact with her for fear she would con me out of my money again. We then met some interesting guys outside and I believe one was Slovak. I talked to him about his kids. He was kinda old but I admire his ability to rally and go out . I believe we moved to a different bar (after a tequila shot...) where Joe proceeded to tell the bartender it was ridiculous that they didn’t serve Stella. “Everyone drinks Stella!” We settled for cider instead, which ended up tasting more like funky apple juice. 

I think I slept the whole way back. I think. 

Day 3. 

We suited up in Liverpool attire and made our way to the stadium. However, it was not to actually attend the game inside the stadium it was to see if we could scalp tickets. Fail. Apparently that’s frowned upon and maybe semi-dangerous so our attempt turned into watching all the other fans in red and blue go in and we sat outside moping about how we should have just bought the tickets before we knew who was playing for sure. We suck. I thought Joe was going to cry. 

But then we stumble across a pub you can hear a mile away. The line was ridiculous and packed doesn’t begin to even describe it. Liverpool fans. Red on Red on Red. Chants on Chants on Chants. We finally make our way in and it takes 20 minutes to get a beer so naturally we did the American thing: We double fisted. It was necessary and while it drew some attention, our idea caught on. Everyone started doing it. AMERICA. 

Stella, again. 

I was one of maybe 10 girls in the whole place and I met some lovely middle aged men who enjoyed hugging me and teaching me the chants. When Liverpool scored they also enjoyed kissing my face and lifting me up in the air. It sounds creepy but it actually was not at all. Maybe that was the Stella clouding my brain, but those old guys became my friends. 

Liverpool lost to Chelsea 2-1 but that experience is one I will never forget. 

Then I had to eat. It was beyond necessary since we decided it would be better to go to the pub and drink for the whole day than to eat first. Our decision making skills are not the strongest. 

Burger. Nomnomnom. 

The metro ride home: People staring at us as Joe tapped into his inner monkey/stripper and swung from all the hand rails and poles. He then proceeded to lay on the ground of the metro acting like I had hurt him. 

Long ass bus ride after that: Chelsea fans got and sat next to us. Harmless trash talking occurred. 

Day 4. 

Tourist time. After Mcdonalds of course. We did the London Eye which was as amazing as I had heard. Then we went to the Tower of London so I could get my history fix. We saw Big Ben, the bridge, and of course the palace. It actually was surprising how quickly you can see all the major attractions. Again, food time. Food time turned into minimal food and larger amounts of tequila. And Long Island Ice Teas. And more Stella. We randomly enter a club which still amazes me because it was a Sunday. We accidentally find the bar again. Call Me Maybe plays and we jump around like 13 year old girls at a Justin Beiber concert.  We forget the tube is closed and end up in the most expensive and confusing taxi ride in the history of taxi rides. (Joe and I are not planners. We are too sporadic to be left on our own.) We decide it’s pointless to go to sleep now and I attempt to pack, or hastily shove, all of my not folded up clothes back into my tiny suitcase. Note: I did go through it when I got home and I think I managed to actually get everything. Practice I suppose. 

Accidentally fall asleep. Wake up to one of the 7 alarms we set. Rush out of the hotel and catch the slowest bus to the terminal only to find out I’m in the wrong terminal. I sprint through the Heathrow airport even after the front desk man told me there was no way I’d make my flight. He was wrong. Even if I did almost die doing it. 

I’m now pretending to read articles on Human Rights violations which as you can imagine are extremely uplifting and positive. I have less than 10 full days in Copenhagen. Two research papers, 4 finals, and lots of goodbyes stand between me and the U.S.A. That’s a blog for a later time though. 

Wish you were here. 

Jet Setting

I made it to school today! And almost passed out walking up the few stairs from the train station. I am forever ill. But on a brighter note, Netflix never has failed to keep me company as I lay in bed dying. Who needs a boyfriend when you have that right?

So, as you can see I have returned safe and sound (sort of sound) back to cold cold Copenhagen from the warm lands of Barcelona & Lisbon. I have returned with a new appreciation for Sangria and sunshine as well as an empty wallet. However, as I look at the prices in Copenhagen that I would have considered " a good deal" I have to make a dramatic sigh. Barca and Lisbon were so much damn cheaper. Why did I choose Copenhagen again?

Spain


We arrive at the fashionable time of 11:20(ish), just in time to catch some Barcelona nightlife. But not before we make the intellectual decision to hop in a cab with a stranger who claims he knows where we need to go and that he is Danish. Note: He says this after he finds out we are from Copenhagen and as if because he is Danish, he is safe.
After I stand outside of the car for a few seconds and contemplate not getting in I finally climb in the middle and claw at Sam and Sarah's arms to show them how unhappy I am about this decision. We make it to where we need to go and impostor Danish man offers to walk us to our hostel. NO THANK YOU NO THANK YOU. We stand there with our bags and watch him walk out of sight to be sure he doesn't know which sketchy street we are staying on. "Taken" scenes flashing in my head.
As we walk down crowded streets we find our hostel. Or rat hole would be a more accurate description. We walk up the stairs and my eyes are on the look out for furry little animals to be running around. After we check into our humble abode we discover the ...bathrooms. I will spare you all the details and just say we all refused to enter the bathroom alone so when one of us had to go we all went. And when I took a shower I was accompanied by dirt and tiny little hairs that were noottt my own. How nice. I could practically see my mother running out the door.
To get out of the room, we go exploring. We are approached many of times with "I love you" and if I wanted to have left Barcelona a married woman, I would have had no trouble. Of course my husband would have made his living by selling the cheapest of the cheap beer on Las Ramblas. What can I say, I attract the winners. We call it a night after a free glass of champagne and some people watching. I lay a scarf over my pillow and try to not think about what critters may be crawling through my bed.

Having no plans at all is the way to go. We sleep in, take our time getting ready, and venture out to the streets and the sunshine! My body is deprived of the vitamin D and I can feel my skin soaking it in. We walk for hours with no definite direction. We end our day by the water watching volleyball games players and listening to the music on the streets. And then we nom on paella and sangria. I honestly don't know if I had been that genuinely happy in a very long time.

We go back to the room and siestas set in. Except my fever was taking over and while Sarah and Sam got ready to go to the shots bar to meet Francesca and her sister, my body refused. I had a long internal struggle about whether to drag myself out of bed or not and finally the more responsible and sickly side pulled through and I decided not to go. Instead I had a date with some nyquil and lots of blankets.

The next few days in Barcelona were just as glorious as the first day or random walking around. We got to switch to our second hostel when Kate and Francesca joined us and we were all very excited when we saw clean sheets and a huge clean bathroom. That night we went out for a very late dinner and drinks and then made our way to the club Apollo, which apparently has the best sound system in ...Spain?Barcelona? I don't quite remember but it was loud. And expensive. But the free drink they give you is worth it...and the only drink I let myself consume. Because. Well. It was free. And I am. Well. Cheap. We stay out way too late, and I spend way to much time coughing from people lighting joints and cigarettes in the crowd. We decide to leave after a mosh pit starts. I'm sure watching my 5'3 self in a mosh pit would be amusing, however, I may not be here to write this blog. It was terrifying. Also, it was getting old explaining to people No Hablo Espanol and running from Spaniards especially after I lost my voice. Some people did decide to have me type everything on their iPhone. Points for creativity.
We did a bike tour and I thought Sam and Sarah were going to ask to stay with the tour guides afterwards. Accents are extremely attractive though.
Watched the Barca game in a crowded tapas bar. Bedtime.

Lisbon


Gorgeous.

And we were lucky we even got to see it at all. After almost missing our flight (which was in the middle of the day) we finally stumble onto the plane and I passed out. At least when I wasn't coughing or trying to hold in coughing.
We manage to make it to our hostel without any obstacles unless you count the harassment of the restaurant people on our street trying to get us to eat nice, expensive, grown up meals. Our hostel turns out to be amazing. I didn't want to leave. And they fed me breakfast. Every morning. NOM.

After walking around for what seriously felt like hours, we finally found somewhere to eat. If you know me, I'm sure you can imagine me lagging behind the group grumpily because I hadn't eaten in over 6 hours. But as soon as they brought the never-ending bread out I went back to normal and all was right in the world again. Except it cost me an arm and a leg to eat my chicken curry.
Then we decide to do the pub crawl through our hostel. 13 euro for lots of free shots and drinks. Of course we attended.
Bar #1-One shot of what may have been kool-aid. Then one shot of what may have been rubbing alcohol.
Bar#2-They let us loose on an open bar for exactly 1 hour. Power hour on an entirely new level.
Bar #3 -Well. As I said before they let us loose on an open bar so the exact color of the shots of bar #3 can not be promised but as a group we have decided on the color yellow.
Club #4-Well. The music was good. And the shots probably were too.

Bedtime did not come until very early the next morning. And McDonald's was more than necessary the next day. As were sunglasses. We decided it was a good day for a light stroll around the city. Nothing to strenuous.
That night consisted of more good food and ended with me drinking one glass of wine and falling asleep on the couch in the lobby.

The rest of our time in Lisbon was extremely leisurely and the definition of Spring Break. Minus the multiple trips to McDonald's. We flew out of Lisbon and landed in Milan around midnight. We then proceeded to find food and I read an entire book waiting for our flight at 7:20 am. Needless to say, all we saw of Milan was Terminal 1 and Terminal 2.

Arrive back in Copenhagen. Exhausted. Hungry. and in need of a shower. And now we have the sickness, hence why I missed the notorious Tuesday Kulørbar outing. I'm becoming extremely way to responsible.

Next adventure: London in a few weeks!

Wish you were here.

Amsterdam, You did a number on us

It is now Monday and I'm back in the real world of classes and back in the land of Danish and beauty. Cause let me tell ya, not all them Europeans be beautiful. My apologies to the Dutch.

Friday I spent the entire day cursing my professors in my head for making me come to class when I should be in Amsterdam doing Amsterdam things. I took a midterm (after watching the season finale of The Bachelor and yelling at my computer as he picked the woman who is going to ruin his life) that was surprisingly difficult considering the material we've covered in class and then sprinted to meet Sam, Francesca, and Sarah to walk to the airport. Sam and I rolled our wheely bags obnoxiously over the cobble stone the whole way there trying to ignore the vibes of annoyance by our fellow street travelers. After a struggle with the kiosks we finally checked in and got our boarding passes. We get through security (after I shove all of my liquids into Sam's plastic baggy because I'm a terrible traveler and forgot my plastic baggy) and find our gate without any mishaps. It seems to be a trend that in Europe they do not want you to actually use the comfy seats they put in the gates for waiting on your plane. Instead they insist upon keeping the doors closed and the seats empty until it is time for you to board your flight, therefore, making you use the floor outside of your gate as your waiting area. So that is what we did. That, and eat hotdogs. Liz and Elena arrive safe and sound.

We board our flight and find out Sam, Francesca, and I are the lucky ladies who are seated in the same area as some very inibriated Danes ready to go on their bro trip to Amsterdam. "What happens in Amsterdam, stayyyysss in Amsterdam" seemed to be their quote of choice. The red light district may have been their location of choice.

We land in Amsterdam, make the required bathroom and ATM stops, successfully buy train tickets (after butchering the station names) and buy Tram and bus station passes for the 48 hours. Yes, there were a few mishaps like being on the right platform but thinking we are on the wrong platform, therefore, racing up and down the escalator to catch the train. But for the most part, we did exceptionally well at getting all 6 of us to our hotel successfully.

The Flipper Hotel. An establishment we may never be allowed to show our pretty faces at again.
There were 7 of us this weekend. We booked a room that would sleep 5 and we said there were 4 people. Hey, when you can beat the system, beat the system, ya know? So four of us walk in were buzzed in and when they look up our booking number it turns out that we were declined a room. The email that got sent to notify us of this was misspelled and never reached anyone. We put on our best "we don't want to be homeless" faces and they agreed to give us a room for the night but they didn't have openings for Saturday night.  This room consisted of two very tiny twin beds and one double. Back to the fact that there were 7 of us this weekend. So we go get the three girls standing outside trying not to look suspicious. "They are meeting us for dinner..." is our very original excuse. We push all three beds together to make one gigantic bed. Snuggly we are.

We eat dinner at an Italian place where Francesca and I found out their wine packs a mean punch in one glass and I split a very tasty pasta dish with Sarah. Full and happy we wonder around in hopes to experience some Amsterdam nightlife. Australian bar it is. And we made it with 30 minutes left until happy hour! NOTE: These were big glasses. Or actually, normal size glasses but I've been in Copenhagen drinking out of mini glasses for so long I had forgotten what a normal size glass looks like.
Anyway, we dance and drink girly drinks for a while and then decide it's time to call it a night so we can be rested for Saturday.

Saturday: All 7 of us were up and ready to go by 10am! I must admit I had my doubts. 7 girls. 1 Bathroom. Odds were against us. The only problem we ran into was how all 7 of us were going to eat the complimentary breakfast that was only allowed for 4 of us and the receptionist who, if he could have articulated his concerns in English, would have probably made us pay for the 3 extra bodies we shoved in our tiny room. Language barrier for the win! Needless to say, we booked it out of that hotel.

We start Saturday off homeless but clean and well rested. We decide to take a free walking tour of the city through a company that does free tours all over Europe. What we didn't know was that this would match the plans of 100's of other tourists that Saturday morning. We missed out on the free tickets and when we realized they were counting the number of people in each group, nixed the idea of tagging along in one of them.

We do our own walking tour. Which meant taking pictures of buildings we couldn't pronounce and walking through crowded plaza's taking everything in. Gorgeous. We walked the canals and ate lunch at a pancake place that put any IHOP to shame. Back on the tram. We wait on the tram for a good 15 minutes while a parade of vegan protesters make their way through the city. My heart goes out to the cow I just ate for dinner, I assure you.
Liz and Elena split from the group to meet up with some friends who were also visiting the international city. Sam and Francesca bought tickets to the Heineken museum. Brenna, Sarah, and I take our limited funds elsewhere. We roamed around the city for hours having multiple near death by bike/vespa (vespo...? Those motorbike things) experiences, looking at lots of food, and visiting little shops. Suddenly we are very quiet and very sleepy. We arrive back at the hotel to wait on Sam and Francesca and end up watching Toddlers in Tiaras in complete silence. Nap time.

We ate dinner at a Chinese restaurant that was highly recommended. I cleaned my plate of sweet and sour chicken in record time and could have eaten another plate quite easily I'm sure. nomnomnom.

Red Light District. It does exist and frightening is a word I would use to describe it. Now, maybe the male population would disagree. Actually, at least the male population on that street Saturday night, would certainly disagree. We walked the long strip (ha, word choice) of houses with glowing red lights trying to be as un-awkward as possible. However, it is not so easy when you're watching men stand in large groups staring through a window at a woman pressed up against the glass. Also, these woman and I have very different opinions on what qualifies as undergarments.
But, when you're in Amsterdam you have to see this historic and famous district. I just hope those woman are getting less bang for their customers buck. I seriously crack myself up.
We ended the night at a very classy bar called Teasers. I had to venture in this place Sunday afternoon (different story) and I found myself extremely confused as to why Sam, Sarah, and I decided that it looked like a nice place to go as I watched half naked (hence the name "Teasers") girls dance on the bar and older men drinking beer with said girls half naked ass in his face. Sometimes our judgement baffles me, as I'm sure it baffles you readers as well. (Oh, and we may or may not have eaten Mcdonalds and I will just share this with you. No one does a double cheeseburger better than Amsterdam. It may have been as close to heaven as I will ever get.)

Sunday: We rise at a respectable 9 am ready to be more touristy. We get blessed with rain/snow and very cold weather to stand in line for 45 minutes at the Anne Frank house. However, from the looks of the line that formed behind us, we were the lucky ones. The museum was really great and worth the wait. Next we make the required stop at the I AMsterdam sign. Again, our plans seem to always be what everyone else plans to do which is why there are a billion strangers in all of my pictures at the sign. Lunch at the cheapest place we can find. Eat a whole pizza while I stare at a picture of a naked woman sitting in a bowl of pasta. nomnomnom
Back to the hotel to pick up bags. Wait for the rest of the group. Head to the airport. More sitting and waiting. Get on the plane and pass out before we even take off. Exhaustion has set in. Amsterdam, I commend you. "Wild" does not even do this city justice and I'm so glad I can say I've experienced it.

This week will consist of presentations, paper writing, and catching up on sleep. Two weeks to go until Czech Trek, Barcelona, and Lisbon. I can't even imagine how I will blog about those.

It's supposed to be around 60 sometime this week! Horray for warmth!

Wish you were here.

"Forget the Freshman 15, I gained the Bosnian 95"

Soup. Meat. Cheese. Bread. Vegetables stuffed with meat. Butter seeping out of  everything. Meat stuffed with Meat.

Welcome to Bosnian cuisine! In my attempt to figure out how to correctly spell an amazing meat thing I found a quote that describes it perfectly "No country grills up ground cow better than Bosnia". So true.

So, because the beginning of the week is a little fuzzy, seeing as how it was a week ago, I will be working backwards from my weekend to the beginning of last week. Be prepared, it could get a little scattered.

Sunday: Spent the day laying around watching Netflix and NOT eating and pretending to read about Vikings.

Saturday: Woke up from the best sleep I've had in a very long time. Laid around. Looked at my bags and contemplated unpacking and then decided that was silly and watched a movie instead. Made plans with people to go out...and then discovered that most of my class got sick from Bosnian food. Not meeee. This stomach is a tank. And as my professor stated this morning in class as I ate the free pastries that no one else could eat, "It's actually a new statistic, 4 out of 5 times when looking at Callie, she will be stuffing her face." Thank you Ulrik. Thank you.

Anyway, so those plans turned into plans with Sam, Brooke, Kate, and some of their friends who were studying abroad. We went to the Ice Bar. Which turned out to be a very cold, small, middle aged touristy bar with overpriced not so great drinks. So glad I paid an arm and leg to get that great experience. Oh well. I got to wear a huge parka thing with gloves attached. However, the bartender had a very hard time believing I was 18...and an even harder time believing I was almost 21.
Then we went to Night Fever, which is a bar that plays old school music. Once again, the bouncer questioned my age and asked for ID and patted me on the head and said I could pass for 15.
 
We did the 8th grade girl thing and circled up and sang backstreet boys, Michael Jackson, and Spice Girls while we drank cheap beer. Sam and I loose the group to exhaustion and make our way to A Bar where they are apparently hi-tech and put you in their system. I was a mix of impressed and nervous about having my picture taken and my id scanned...

We decided after a while to call it a night, especially after Heineken started tasting like water. So what do Sam and I bolt for? Mcdonald's my friends. Mcdonalds. I'm not even going to embarrass myself by telling you the amount of food we consumed as we sat there waiting for the train to come at 5am. I will just tell you this. I'm still full. or "mit" in Danish.

Friday: Woke up too early smelling like a cigarette from the previous night and Catie and I packed up our hotel room that had our belongings scattered all over the place. I hastily consume two rolls with chocolate on top for breakfast and we run off to have a lecture from a media NGO that tries to give Bosnia unbiased news, which is a rare occurrence. Come to find out our lecturer was hungover from the night before. I wish I could preform half that well hungover.

We then had a lecture from Nato. I had to do my best to focus on his words rather than his beautiful Australian accent and his adorable turtle neck. What can I say, it's a weakness of mine. No, really though. He was so extremely interesting and it really sparked an interest for me to get involved in Nato or the UN (even though the UN is a joke for the most part) after Law School. He discussed Nato's role in Bosnia during the war as well as their role in Bosnia today in the post-war conflict. He was brilliant. Alright that's enough about my creepy love for a middle aged Australian man.

After that we ate at a historical house/restaurant where yes, we ate soup, bread, meat, and cheese! And of course desert. Back to the hotel. Wait on the elevator for years. Ride in a cab for more years. Cab driver gets angry because we don't have enough to tip for him putting our bags in the car. Run away. Rush through security. Try to use up the remaining Marks in a duty free store which I was amazed with. Flight to Vienna. Go through security again. Forget I have a mini body wash in my backpack and the security guy and I go round and round about if I have liquids or not...He cursed ( or so I am assuming)  at me in German and I slink away after putting everything back in my backpack. Flight back to Copenhagen where I sat awkwardly next to a Danish man who smelled of alcohol and a cologne that  made me want to have the reaction that resembled the scene in Anchorman. (For my older generation of readers, it's not important.) Land in Copenhagen. The baggage thingy breaks and we wait for over an hour on our bags. My host dad graciously picks me up at the airport after I pay 12 dollars for a coffee at starbucks. I chatter away as the caffeine rushes through my exhausted body. Go home. Eat steak and chatter more about Bosnia. PASS OUT.

Thursday: MOSTAR. The place that comes up when you google Bosnia. It was by far the most beautiful place I've ever been. We started the morning early on the bus and were given interesting breakfast sandwiches that ended up making the entire bus smell funny for the rest of the day as the sandwiches sat on the hot bus all day. After a long drive we arrive in Mostar where we take a short walking tour through the city with the destination being of course, the famous bridge. Mostar was one of the most effected cities in Bosnia by the war. It was amazing how beautiful a place could still be even with shelled buildings all around.

We met with an NGO whose goal was to create relationships between children of different religions and ethnicities in Bosnia. On a daily basis, Bosnians, Serbs, and Croats are segregated in schools by "shifts" and floors. There history books typically end at the fall of the Berlin wall and the history of the war that is told is left up to individual teachers. So they are all taught different and obviously biased historical accounts making the divide between them resemble the divide between their parents and grandparents. It's a vicious cycle but their are NGO's like the one we met with who are dedicated to trying to bridge this gap with after school activities that will create communication between the youth.

We then had a lot of free time to to explore the old city which was covered in shops and photo ops. (As you can see from my Facebook pictures.) A few of us went to lunch that in Copenhagen would have cost me my budget for a month. It was mouthwatering good. More sightseeing and posing. Then we went to have coffee, wine, tea, and beer by the water. Then. MORE FOOD. I had my first experience with a whole fish. Cutting off the head and tail was a little strange. Good conversations. Good company. Life is good. Back on bus. Alexis and I spend the entire bus ride talking, making the trip seem like 5 minutes.

Get back pretty late. But it's our last night so we decide to make the most it. La Hacienda here we come. I became popular with the middle aged bartender after I ordered a drink called "adios mothaf..." yea. "Sucha big drink vor sucha vittle girl. Buct my most vaforite things come in de smallest sizes." (read in slovak accent...or if you're reading and know Sarah's Russian accent..insert it here.) After drinking said drink, I become a little worried about my tolerance level as I watch the boys in my class get drunk. No fair. We decide to bar hop a little and make our way to a bar called "Cheers" where the bartenders whistle obnoxiously and wear interesting hats. Which I decided I wanted to wear. So I took one.
Back to La Hacienda. Bosnian guy offers to buy me a drink. Culturally naive me sees no problem with this, however, I'm informed by his friend that I need to go sit with him. So I decide to follow the rules as to not be rude. I sip on my drink and we awkwardly chat and try to make the best of our language barrier. Now, it is the end of the night and I have bad eyes. I ask " So you are Jewish?" Him: "Vat?" Me: "You're head thingy" ( ah so politically correct I am) Him: "It's a tobagan" Me: Wow, I'm so sorry..."
I proceed to make my exit...and take my second drink with me even after he offers to take me home with him and make me breakfast. Again, culturally naive, because I later find out that accepting a drink is basically accepting the invitation to a good time and breakfast. Whoops.

Alright. That tis all for now. I know, I know, you can't wait to read more about my very nerdy visits with the EU and my walking tour of Sarajevo where I could barely contain my excitement as I stood where Franz Ferdinand was shot which "started" WWI. But I can only blog for so long and you're attention spans can only take so much. I must now go pretend to read more about Vikings and eat my butter and ham sandwich. mmmm.

Wish you were here.

Big News...Alright not really.

The big news? Snookie is knocked up, I didn't eat a pastry today, I'm going to fail Danish, I ate sushi on a belt, I saw Roskilde, and I go to Bosnia in a few short days! See, that was similar to big news...it has a slight resemblance to big news...no?no? Alright. 

Supposedly Snookie is really 3 months prego according to sources from the states. I can't figure out if I want to be that child or if that child is doomed. Either way, if they decide to make a spin off of Jersey Shore about Jionni and Snookie with their new bundle of joy, I'm excited for the drinking game. 

I was proud of my will power to resist consuming a pastry though. 7/11 and all of the other shops in Copenhagen seemed to be tempting me even more than usual today but I came out the winner. Or was I the loser? It was a battle that lasted until I was out of the city and on the train. Can you go to rehab for pastry consumption? 

I really am going to fail Danish. Or at least this test tomorrow. I can't spell anything in this crazy sounding language nor can I remember any of the numbers past 10. The test will also have a section on the culture and history. What I know about the culture? They think people who buy nice cars are assholes who flaunt their wealth and they eat a lot of potatoes (which I love). What I know about the history? They fought a lot of wars, lost a lot of wars, now they don't fight anymore about anything, and if I slap a 1-9 on the end of a Christian or a Frederick I have a pretty decent chance at getting the King right in any given time period. Like I said, I am going to fail. 

I ate sushi on a conveyor belt last night! And when I say I ate...I mean really mean I feasted for a very long time. It was called "running sushi" and it was all you can eat. There was a conveyor belt that went around the restaurant with different types of sushi in little plastic bowls and you just take whatever you want off of this belt of joy. The whole time I was eating I just kept plucking more bowls off the belt because I couldn't let it go by even though it would come back around. Before I knew it I had all of those brightly colored bowls stacked all around me and the waiter -who really resembled a security guard with his little earpiece-was judging me. 

Today I took the regional train with my Danish class to Roskilde. Home of the cathedral where the Kings and Queens of Denmark rest as well as the huge 10 day music festival in June every year that is very similar to "Woodstock." It was one of the first cities in Denmark, founded by the Vikings and very close to the water. I actually managed to take pictures because it was warmer today and I didn't wear gloves so I'll upload them with captions of the information I can remember. 

I go to Bosnia in 4 days! Do I know where I am staying? If I can check a bag? What we will be doing? What airline we are flying with? The answer to all of these questions is a reassuring NO. However, it is all part of the adventure. So while most of my fellow DIS students are traveling around London, Prague, and Berlin I shall be in Sarajevo trying to stay in large groups while we go out at night. But I'm ecstatic. It's a place I probably never would have gone if it weren't for my Justice and Human Rights group and I think it's going to be a week I'll never forget. 

Copenhagen is starting to become home and I'm loving it. I gave someone directions today. Scary right? 

I heard back from an internship today. I got the one in Frederick, MD. It's a cruel cruel world. Needless to say, the search continues. 

That is all. 

Wish you were here. 

I shall entertain you all whilst I procrastinate

I have a paper due at midnight. It's a legal analysis of Osama Bin Ladens murder killing. I'm starting to stress over it. So instead of work on it I shall blog! This my friends is how great minds think. Law School is gonna love me.

My host family has returned!! With that comes food and chatter! It was so quiet I could barely stand it. They had spent the previous week in Austria skiing and drove the 10 hour drive home on Saturday.
I spent the night in Helsingnør with Sarah. Let me tell you, we have perfected the art of doing absolutely nothing. There may not be two people in the world who do it as well as we do. And we make it look so good.
The two of us take our respectable places on the couch ( or "sofa" if your Sarah) with laptops propped up, TV on an English speaking channel with Danish subtitles.
"I'm hungry."
"Me too"
"Pizza?"
"Pizza"

However, the pizza ordering was a tad more complicated than we had anticipated. We ended up having to walk down to the pizza place and point to the pictures of the pizzas we wanted. After they gave us an irritated "ok" we stood awkwardly in a corner of this very small pizza place and talked quietly to each other and watched Danish music videos on the TV. We do finally receive our two pizzas ( one for each of us of course) and have no trouble devouring said pizzas. We then go back to doing absolutely nothing. It was beautiful. In bed by midnight.

We plan to meet Sam and Francesca in the city the next morning to venture out to Christiania. Alarms set for 9:00...Two alarms. With two snooze options. We end up getting up at 10:00 instead. Oops.

Gross weather. Rain boots and rain jackets it is.

Missed the bus. (Something that happens to Sarah frequently) So we decide to just walk to the station and see the little city of Helsingnør. It was adorable and actually pretty busy for a rainy Saturday. Apparently in the summertime its a hoppin' place.

So, after getting pastries and apple juice like 5 year olds, we take the train and meet up to take the Metro.

Christiania.

Apparently, it was a playground before the days of peace, love, and drugs in Denmark. Now it is a small haven for those who want to sell and appreciate a little herbal drug called marijuana or those who want to live in a society without taxes or  a sewer system. Hippies some may say. Free thinkers. Whatever they are, they are by definition, awesome. From the graffiti to the cheap mexicanish restaurant I was amused and amazed. There was something almost beautiful about the way this society within a society worked.
The police come every Thursday and a surprise day. As we were walking around we noticed big, scary men posted around in probably strategic places? From word of mouth we found out this is like their own little security system. They notify everyone when the police come, shops shut down, no one gets in any trouble. So Strange but So Fascinating. No pictures.

After our little self guided tour through the area we decided we were done being out in the cold rain. We went back to the city center and ate pizza, again! The pizza guy made a heart on my pizza out of some green spice. What can I say? My American charm and stuttering over Danish words must have really made an impression.

Later that night was an interesting Saturday of roaming around to random places, meeting random people, and making the journey home at yes, you guessed it 5:00am.

Bought tickets to Amsterdam Monday. March 16th-18th. I AM SO EXCITED. I'm sure that will be a blog all to itself.

Last night we went to the Sugar Bakery after meeting up with some people. (Something else in Danish) Things I Learned:

Heineken tastes like skunks smell. Not a fan.
Germans are very forward and are clearly not a fan of rejection.
When you ask the bartender for the cheapest shot...you get what you pay for
The line "You have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen, can we kiss?" is actually used but for that poor guy from Barcelona it was not a success. Solid effort?
The line "I'm on holiday here in Copenhagen, we should kiss." is also used. Who wrote the book they are getting these from?
 I know most of the words to a Portuguese song yet do not know what they translate too.
Mcdonald's is where I do some of my best chatting. And not some of my best tweeting.

Overall, successful night. I now can no longer put off finishing this pain in the ass very intellectual paper. So until next time.

Wish you were here.

A whirlwind of a week

I know. I know. You've all been checking my blog at least 10 times a day to see if I've chosen to grace you all with an update of my fabulous life here in Coldland. Well here you are ladies and gentlemen. A nice mix of academia and alcohol. The way everyone should live their lives.

Last Thursday-Leave for århus.
But first we listen to a very rushed but informative lecture on Bosnia and the anti-love triangle between the Bosnians, Serbs, and Croats. Let me tell you who has problems. Those guys.

Load on the bus. Adjust my small self into a little curled up ball and pass out for a respectable 3.5 hours. Sorry class. My fever comes before bonding.

Get lunch at a restaurant entirely too fancy for a medium size group of college students. We receive a number of strange stares...eat our very large sandwiches...and peace out.

Quickly check into our hostels. Hostels in Denmark are like palaces compared to other countries so I have heard ( since I haven't actually been to any other countries yet).

Listen to two lectures at the University there in the city. My fever refuses to allow me to actually focus on these lectures but I'm sure they were more than exciting. All I can really recall from those lectures was that the first speaker shared a strong resemblance to Einstein.

Go to dinner in the Universities dining hall. I pick at something we start calling "Salmon mousse" which literally could have been sold in the yogurt isle in stores and decided I would stick to the wine. Our attention was drawn towards our professor Ulrik after he downed a few glasses of wine. We then bonded over our "asian glow" and everyone at the table got the definition of chatty. It was nice. and only 7:00pm. Which here in Denmark means "just warming up".

Our other professor, Nicolai, went to law school here so he knew lots of the bars. After first trying a few beers at the university bar (and maybe the ordering of a keg by my fellow classmates) we ventured out to a very lively bar downtown...the exact location I am unclear about.

Explained to the bartender what an Irish Car Bomb was...and received a shot that really was nothing like an Irish Car Bomb. Language barriers at work again.

Watched Danes play something similar to Yahtzee.

Explained to Dane after Dane that I was American.

Refused a number of shots and offers of beer.

Finally we decided we should go. The large and loud group of Americans attempt to find our way back to the hostel that is conveniently in the middle of nowhere.

I convince a very sketch man who owns a very sketch pizza place that I am Puerto Rican with my very twangy Spanglish. Receive pizza and fries that tasted like the gods themselves had blessed.

We stand around trying to decided wether to take a taxi or not. This meant we stood around talking and eating until a taxi went by and then we ran after it trying to flag it down. Fail. Start walking. Gabrielle ( classmate) and I get a little worried we are never going to get home and decide we love taxis. Take a taxi home and worry about the rest of our group the whole way there. I get locked out of my room and have to sleep in another room. My luck is exhausting.

Friday:
Wake up the next morning twice as ill as the day before. (Not hungover, I assure you.) Back on the road which means back to sleep for Callie. Now, our very academic Justice and Human Rights professors tried extremely hard to find academic things for us to do for this short study tour. But as it turns out lots of military bases or special operations bases don't really feel comfortable with a group of college students hanging out with them for the day. Needless to say our short study tour was much more...cultural...than others. So we made our way to Ringkøbing in western Denmark where we would take a 2 hour walking tour of Hitlers Atlantic Wall on the beach, bowl, and travel to see Jelling Stones. The hostel we stayed at was, again, amazing. My mother would have even approved of sleeping on those beds. We had a short workshop where we split into groups and read a UN document concerning Srebencia which I found really helpful. Then we had ribs and french fries for dinner and bowled ( or attempted to bowl). I, still running a fever, take two Tylenol PMs and pass out at 10:00 or 22:00 as I'm trying to learn to use.

Saturday:
Wake up the next morning feeling like a brand new person. I happily pack my things and go to breakfast. Chatty and full we get bacccckkk on the bus. ( I became extremely attached to this bus)

2 hour walking tour. on a beach. My toes, face, and hands hated that tour. I'm sure it would have been nicer in the summer.

Back on bus. Back to sleep. Jelling. Tour of stones. Super fascinating. I found it really strange that most Danes are not very religious yet this specific image of "Jesus" that was carved on a jelling stone over 1000 years ago is now on every Danes passport.

Eat at a restaurant where I ate salmon that will go down in history as the best salmon I've ever eaten. Drank hot chocolate that was like a melted chocolate bar in a glass. Happy.

Back on the Bus. Stay awake the whole way home. Copenhagennnnn. Get back to Vaerløse pretty late but not late enough to not go out of course. Meet up with Sam and Sarah at a friends apartment in the city. Go to a really nice bar with the really interesting name of Francis Pony. Learned that Whitney Houston died and bonded with a man in the Danish military over her music. Pay your respects people.

This week my host family is away skiing in Austria. I've been mostly staying at Sam's house (her family is also gone) and rummaging for food that I do not know how to cook. Tuesday night we went out to the very American Kuløbar. It wasn't nearly as crowded as our last experience so taking advantage of the "free beer till 1am" thing was a little easier. Sarah spends 15 minutes of her life trying to convince me we can walk to Helsingnør which is an hour away...by train... home at 6:30 am with Sam. Story of our lives here.

Explored the city with Sam, Brooke, and Kate on Wednesday. Ate pizza and drank wine while we attempted to plan our spring breaks. I get stressed out.

I actually have a paper and a presentation next week. Like real school....not ok.

I now will venture out into the cold to find food with my fellow nommer Sarah because we didn't bring out lunches today. If only there was taco bell. I miss it so much it hurts.

Wish you were here.